My Inspiration
by Her Name Is Erika
Summary: Carly Blake-Matrinez can write about a handful of people that inspire her, but today, she'll write about one. Hint: it's almost Mother's Day.


**A/N: Here's a short oneshot for Mother's Day. Mother's Day is on Sunday, so I want this drabble, and it has little to no dialogue. **

**Disclaimer: My name is Erika, not Dan Schneider. **

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**My Inspiration **

_**By: Carly Blake-Martinez**_

_So, I can choose to write about a whole bunch of people that inspire me, but I can only choose to write about one. Here's my hint: it's almost Mother's Day. And if you didn't get that, then you must be really that dense. _

_She's my mom, obviously, and because of her, I have the Spanish roots that I'm muy proud of. Don't get it twisted. I'm grateful for the Scottish/British in me. My dad's awesome, and between my older brother, Steve, and me, it's a miracle that he even has time to be a family man, but I like that he is one. _

_My mom isn't prefect. We fight over the dumbest things, but they seem so important, but at the end of the day, she still takes me to one of her award shows, as her date. I can secretly wish to be home, drowning in greasy food, and watching the big game, but I like hanging out with her. _

_For one night I can totally put my "Hollywood is corrupt" theory aside, and just hang._

_(Patriots all the way!)_

_Sorry, Ms. Birdwell, I had to make that known. Ahem. _

_Back to my mom. _

_I know she'd like me to be a girly girl, but I'm a tomboy that wears occasional make-up, and she's cool with it… _

"Yo, runt!" Carly's pencil would kept moving, but instead, she let out a frustrated growl. She was only fourteen, and in her freshmen year of high school. Truthfully, school made her more angry than she already was. If she didn't get this paper done because she lost her train of thought, there would be hell to pay. She glared at her brother. Carly wasn't that small anyway, and she was only standing at 5'3 anyway.

"What?"

"Phone," Steve said, tossing her the cordless. She caught it with one hand.

"Okay, leave," she instructed, with slight edge to her voice. Steve rolled his eyes.

"Well, I'm sorry, Princess. May I assist you in getting the stick out of your ass?"

"No, thank you, kind sir," she said, her voice coated with a quite convincing British accent, and even sarcasm. She smiled, sweetly, turning the British accent off, but the anger and sarcasm still hung around. "…but here's a thought: how about you bend over, and I insert my foot up your ass?"

"You're a demon child…"

"…and you're the zit I'm trying to get rid of," Carly grabbed her sixteen year old brother, and shoved out of her ajar bedroom door, closing it. "…and stay out!"

Carly put the phone to her ear, and after listening, she had a deadpanned look on her face, like her time had been wasted. Colour co-ordination was that life-threatening? Ellie Matthews was her best friend, and sometimes, she wondered why.

Oh, because they were practically like sisters, and Carly hung out with her more than anyone else. It was New York, and there was always something to do in New York.

"Ellie, chill. Ever think of wearing sweats to the movies? They're comfortable, and I'm sure you'll find something cute to wear with them during your date with Adam. Everything goes with sweats, right?" There was a brief pause. Carly let out a sigh of relief, with a slight roll of her eyes. All she wanted to do, was write her report. "You're welcome, Elle. Yeah, sure. We can go over to Central Park or something. It doesn't matter… Awesome. Okay, bye…"

Carly set the cordless phone on her bed after hanging up, and sighed, trying to get back her train of thought. The only sound was pen through paper was the only thing being heard. Carly, herself, didn't know or how she can so concentrated, on this assignment. But she was, and the words just couldn't stop from her to her pencil.

…_and I can say thanks for being tolerant for that. _

_I know I have a tendency to swear like a sailor, and sometimes, it's been compared to having some chronic Tourette's Syndrome. No joke, but she's helped me in cutting back. I just mutter profanities in Spanish, though. It comes with the perks of being biracial. Sure, my dad's well-known on the NFL circuit, and my mom has pride in her Oscars, and Emmys, and we're a rich family, but it's never affected us. Well, me. I don't know about Stevie. _

_Sometimes I wish I could be one of those kids that will just blow their money, anyway they want. Heck, I'm not going to lie. There's a nice skateboard I want, and I'd look totally awesome riding it, but I can't have it. _

_I actually thought about when this happened, and while stewing in my anger, it hit me. _

_She was trying to keep me grounded. My mom never let what we have go to our heads. _

_Because of her, I'm trying every day to try be the good, and special person, I know she is. Despite her flaws, I love her, and I want to be the great mom to my children one day. _

_For the reason, my mom, Lola Blake-Martinez, is my inspiration today. _

_**Mom, I'll right here when you need me. Call me for anything, and I'll come running no matter how far away it is because I love you. Thank you for raising me to be the tough and opinionated person. You taught me that no one can screw with you, unless you allow them to. **_

_**You're a beautiful person, inside and out. I can see why Daddy married you. **_

_**If there's anyone today, I'd would to emulate, it's a no-brainer. **_

_**It's you, and no matter how many times, you might drive me crazy, and no matter how many times, I may be sarcastic, I mean that. **_

_**Te quiero, **_

_**Happy Mother's Day, **_

_**Love,**_

_**Carly**_

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**A/N: There's your early Mother's Day oneshot. The entire oneshot is Carly writing her paper. Even I'm about to tear a little, and I'm the author. **

**Anyway, review while I find my mom to give her a hug even though it's early. **

**Peace, Love, & Cookies, **

**-Erika**


End file.
